Dog Star Over The Mountains
by Evangeline Henri
Summary: Coming home means coming back to problems left behind. Sirius returns, and he and Remus must face fourteen years of unresolved demons. (Remus/Sirius SLASH!) ::completed::
1. Homecoming

Dog Star Over The Mountains 

By: Evangeline Henri

Rating: PG-13

Summary:  Coming home means coming back to problems left behind.  Sirius returns, and he and Remus must face fourteen years of unresolved demons.  (Remus/Sirius SLASH!)

Archives:  fanfiction.net; all others are welcome to it, just let me know

Disclaimer:  Of course, I can claim but the plot- the rest is J.K. Rowling's.

A/N: Without Paul Simon (_Graceland_) and Dar Williams (_Mortal City_), there's a good chance this might have never been written.

Dedication:  To Kitten, my wonderful beta, at whose shrine I will forever be laying down bouquets of roses.  (Do you have a shrine?)  And to Atalanta de               Lioncourt, as ever.  Love you much…ly!  Also, to the beach and those wonderful nights of…  Scrabble.  I love you, Yumie.

WARNING:  The piece that follows does contain slash, i.e. homosexual relations between major characters.  If such a topic is unpalatable to you, feel free to skip this story.  You have been advised.

*****

***

Chapter 1 

"… because, for every exodus, there must be a homecoming."

The night had almost lulled Remus Lupin to sleep in front of the fire when a knock on the door pulled him awake.  It grabbed his frayed blue cable knit sweater by the collar, and shouted into his ear to get up; there was someone there.

            He rubbed his eyes crossly, and stretched his arms above his head as if attempting to grab hold of the ceiling.  His legs had that unpleasant feeling that they had almost been asleep as well, and were as resentful of the interruption as the rest of him was.  

            Getting up out of the sagging armchair was a most unwelcome proposition.  When his jellied legs touched the ground, his toes recoiling at the cold floor, Remus considered just settling back down.  But then there was another knock, and somehow he knew whoever- or whatever, for that matter- was bothering him this late at night, it was probably not going away anytime soon.

            He wandered over to the front door, flipping on light switches as he went.  Electric lights always made the most comforting clicks as Remus turned them on; he refused to even consider using magic instead.  

            Reaching the door, he slipped his hand into the back pocket of his trousers.  He felt the comforting contours of his wand, and pulled it out.  Better to be safe than sorry.  He undid each of a line of locks and bolts, making sure to stroke the last one three times with his left index finger. 

            He wrapped his fingers around the brass handle, and swung open the door.

            Waiting patiently on the doorstep, sprawled out across the ridiculously oversized Welcome mat so that it obscured all but the 'w' and the 'e', was a large black dog.  

            Sirius Black.

*****

(end part one)

Note: Since this was so short, the second part will be up very shortly.


	2. Late

Dog Star Over The Mountains

(Warning, summary, and ratings can be found in chapter 1.)

*****

Chapter 2-  Late 

Remus was not the type of person to go to pieces easily.  Countless tests had taught him the importance of level-headedness and of being able stay composed.  Situations were never as overwhelming as they appeared if one kept one's wits about them.

            Looking back, though, his complete calmness in those first few minutes would always be a mystery to him.  It didn't even feel as if he were the person who led Sirius into the study and shut the drapes so he could safely return to his normal self.  Surely those were not his hands that refused to shake, even when giving Sirius a pile of clean clothes to change into.  Or his voice that impassively asked, without the slightest of tremors, whether or not he was hungry.  It was if another part of him had taken over, one that wasn't crying at the sheer miracle of seeing those long lost eyes again.

            Now, Sirius was sitting in that same beleaguered armchair in which Remus had almost fallen asleep.  He had one foot up on the seat and one hanging down off it, and his arms were crossed over his chest.  Dressed in a spare pair of striped pajamas, he looked almost domestic.

            Although time had been less than kind to Sirius, he had improved greatly since the last time Remus had seen him.  Then, he had been little more than a skeleton.  There had been awful bags under his eyes, and his hair, once midnight perfection had hung scraggly and dirty.  Now, the sheen had returned, and the firelight ran across it like a silk road to the stars.  He had regained some of the weight Azkaban had stolen from him, too.  His jaw was sprinkled with stubble, but then again, it always had been.  Remus remembered how it used to feel against his skin.  Sandpaper kisses.

            What to do to break this silence, though?  He didn't know what do or say.  What after all, does one say in times like these?  Remus thought of the soldier and his wife, reunited after years of warfare on foreign soil.  How did they even begin to reconcile with the days and miles that had torn them apart?  What did they do to mend their broken worlds?

            As the hushed minutes passed, he wondered if it had been too long.  Maybe there was only a finite time span for them, a cosmic expiration date that they had passed years ago.  If only Sirius hadn't had James and Lily make Peter their Secret-Keeper; if only he hadn't snapped so completely so that Peter could frame him.  If only…  

Remus stopped his train of thought.  He had been down this vague path of possibilities many times, and it never did any good.  It wasn't Sirius' fault, after all.  He wasn't responsible for this; there was only person who was.  God help Peter if Remus even found him again.

            "Dumbledore told me to come."  Sirius spoke quietly, as if not wanting to offend the fire.  Ah, Sirius.  After all this time, Remus had almost forgotten the sound of his voice.  

            He grew steadily louder.  "Have you heard about what happened this year at Hogwarts?"

            Remus nodded, glad that he did not have to take control of the conversation.  "After I left my teaching post last year, I've done my best to keep track of anything that concerns Harry.  Besides the _Daily Prophet_­, Dumbledore has been writing to me.  I know about the Triwizard tournament and what happened."

            Remus' vision clouded for a moment as he recalled a young man with golden-spun hair who had once generously helped him carry a carton full of Persian Swamp Chizpurfles.  "Cedric Diggory was a student of mine."

            "I'm sorry."  Coming from anyone else, that would have been merely a formality, an awkward comment to defuse an uncomfortable situation.  But from 

Sirius, those two words were soothing in a way that little was. Sirius had always had that effect on him.

            "He's really back, is he?"  Remus already knew what the answer was, but he could not help but to ask, hoping somehow that he was wrong.

            Sirius' jaw was set in a grim line.  "Unfortunately, yes.  Dumbledore wants me to notify the old crowd.  You, Arabella- anyone that's willing to listen and to fight, really.  I'm to wait here until he can give me specific instructions.

            "That is," he added, and his eyes flashed for just a second, "if you don't mind my staying."

            "Of course, you can stay," Remus replied, and then instantly flinched.  Had he spoken too quickly?  Sounded too willing to have Sirius around once again, even if it was only for a little while?  Or worse, sounded as though he wouldn't mind too much if Sirius stayed even longer?"

            Sirius grinned, and in that moment, he looked exactly as he had at Hogwarts, just after transforming Severus Snape's hat into a giant spider or something equally as dreadful.  "Thank you, Remus."  Was there a thread of mockery woven into those words?

            "So," he ventured.  "How have you been?"

            Remus admired his courage.  He could have never managed that pleasantry so well, without any hesitation.  He was too aware of the space between them; yet Sirius didn't seem to notice it.  They almost sounded like strangers chatting on a bus.  _Hello, how are you?  Lovely weather we've been having.  I heard it's going to rain later this week, though.  Such a shame.  Oh well, as my mum used to say, rain makes the flowers bloom._  It was as if Remus didn't know exactly where the sensitive spot was that could make Sirius melt into a warm, saccharine puddle of bliss.  

"I've been better," Remus allowed.  

            "I'm sure the same could be said about nearly everyone from those days, Moony."

            Sirius' use of his old nickname was so subtle that it could have been unintentional.  However, there was a question forming within the depths of his eyes that made Remus doubt he had done it inadvertently.  What's more, he didn't know how to respond to what he was almost sure was being asked of him.

            "I've missed you," Sirius added, and in his voice was a trace of… what?  Need?  Regret?  Remus wasn't sure which, wasn't even sure if he hadn't just imagined it.

            All he could do was nod, wishing he could have answered in kind.  But something stopped him, and although he didn't know what it was, it was unsettling nonetheless.  Any attempt he made to pin it down, however, only made his head spin.

            At that moment, the tolling of a clock echoed from somewhere in the house.  Remus listened to the steady chiming, hoping he could somehow draw direction from it.  One, two, three times it tolled.  Three a.m.  He should have been asleep hours ago, but now with Sirius back, he wondered if he'd ever be able to sleep again.  "It's really late," he said.

            "Too late?"  There it was, laid out in the open.  Sirius wasn't going to relent easily tonight.  Had he ever?

            "I don't know."  Honesty seemed the only thing left.  "I don't know much of anything anymore."  Unable to answer more definitely than that, Remus averted his eyes, instead watching the fire dance to a beat unheard.

            "Neither do I."  Sirius' tone became quiet again.

            More silence.  It was almost as if Remus was alone, with only the fire to keep him company; almost as if the person sitting in the chair across from him wasn't really Sirius, but merely the shadow of him.  The shadow that had been following Remus for fourteen years.

            "But I'm willing to stop worrying about that from now on."  Remus looked up, and Sirius was staring at him with such force that Remus found himself blushing.  "I'm tired of all this, tired of being alone, tired of being without you.  I can't help it, and I'm sorry if you don't feel the same way.  But I'm going to go out on a limb here, because there was a time when I think you and I were truly happy.  And I've missed that.

            "Do you even remember how it used to be between us?" Sirius asked.  "I mean, before everything happened.  God, Remus, we were so young.  We never really thought seriously about the future, where'd we'd be someday and how we'd get there.  And when we did, it was just going to be Sirius and Remus, stretching out into infinity.  We thought that was all we needed.  What did we know about separation, or pain, or true despair?  We were young; we were in love."

            "And we paid the price for it," Remus said.  He hadn't meant it to sound so harsh, but the words seemed to have other ideas.  They rocketed forth from his mouth like the echoing invocation of a particularly strong spell, slicing through the air, laden with power.

            It may have just been the flickering shadows of the firelight, but Remus thought he saw Sirius flinch.  He bowed his head, and when he spoke again, the intensity behind his words had ebbed away.  "Now that we're older, we know better than all that.  We learned our lesson the hard way.  I can't promise you that we'll be together forever anymore.  I've learned too much about my own mortality for such vows.

            "That doesn't mean we can't try again, though."  There was that… something in Sirius' voice again.  "Just because we're a little more battered than we were then, it doesn't mean we can't try to recapture some of the old magic.  Who knows?  We may be luckier the second time around."

            A second chance.  A flood of memories he had tried so very hard to forget suddenly overwhelmed Remus.  Their first proper date, when Sirius had accompanied him to the Hogwarts ball, dressed to the nines and blushing like mad.  The time Lily and James had found them making out in the Restricted section of the library, and had burst into applause.  The week Remus and Sirius had rented a cottage by the ocean in Brighton, and the night that he and Sirius had made love on the beach.  A thousand summer evening when they'd lounged about in the sun like satisfied cats, and a thousand embraces by the fire on cold winter evenings.

            But then, another image came unbidden.  This was a photograph, one that had been forever ingrained into Remus' mind.  It had come from the front pages of the _Daily Prophet_, and showed Sirius being carted off, in chains, to Azkaban.  His long hair hid his face and his hands, marvelous hands that had always protected Remus, were in handcuffs.  His wrists were red and chafed and Remus had known just by looking that he was in pain.  At the time, he didn't know how he felt about that.

            "What if it all ends the same way again?"  Remus shook his head, but the image would not leave him.  "What if this is just a circle, and everything's going to repeat itself over and over again?  What if nothing ever changes?"  He didn't like the tremor that had wormed its way into his words.

            "Like I said, I can't make any promises as to how long this'll last.  The world isn't what we thought it was when we were eighteen.  There's evil out there; we've both had it brush up against our cheek more than once."  This time, Remus was convinced that he saw Sirius wince.  "And there aren't any guarantees that the next time we meet up with it, we'll survive unscathed.  All I know is that to me, the risks are worth it.  You're worth it.

            "But it's something you'll have to decide for yourself."

*****

(end part 2)


	3. My Prison

Dog Star Over the Mountains

(Warning, summary, and ratings can be found in chapter 1.)

*****

Chapter 3- My Prison 

            Remus felt those familiar feelings begin to tug at him.  They came from someplace unknown to him, whispering wonderful things in his ear, their phantom hands trying to push him closer to Sirius.  It would be so easy to heed them- one tiny step in that direction was all it would take to send him spiraling into Sirius' arms again.  He had missed those arms, that chest, those eyes.  _And now all that is within your grasp; you have only to reach out and take it! _a sibilant voice cried. 

            But could he really risk himself for a second chance, especially if there were no guarantees?  He had worked hard to heal those terrible wounds from the first time around.  Did he have the strength to do the same again, knowing that they had been given a shot at redemption, and had still failed?  He didn't know. 

            In any case, he couldn't think clearly right now, not with Sirius sitting so closely, refusing to look away.  After being gone for so long, his sheer proximity was giving Remus a headache.  He felt like someone was holding his head underwater, a strange fuzzy oblivion slowly setting in.

            "You're resentful that I've been gone."  Sirius stated this without emotion, as if he had known it all along.    

            "No, I--"  Remus tried to protest, but realized he had nothing to say in his own defense.  No arguments to offer, nothing to contradict him.  He found that he couldn't say a word; a lump had risen in his throat. 

            Soon, indignant questions began to swirl about in his mind.  How could Sirius say something like that?  Didn't he know how lonely Remus was, how awful the last fourteen years had been?  What right had he to come back, and accuse Remus of anything? 

            And even if it were true- well, what would be so terribly wrong with that?  Why shouldn't he resent Sirius' leaving?  After all, his life was now divided into two distinct camps: before and after Sirius went away.  Surviving fourteen years of the latter had required a conscious effort, often more than he ever thought himself possible of expending.  Wasn't he allowed his bitterness?

            "I knew you would be.  Of course, you'd never admit to it, but I knew that bitterness would nevertheless shadow you and your emotions."   

            Remus again tried to say something, but Sirius would not be stopped.  "It's not like I did anything wrong.  Remus, _I didn't betray Lily and James!  _I really didn't!  It may have been my fault that Peter did, but it wasn't me!  I didn't deserve to be shipped off to Azkaban!  You have to listen!  I can't understand why you insist on punishing me."

            "I don't want to," he said as sincerely as he could.  "I've just been lonely, that's all."

            "Then why are you acting like this?  Was there something I should have done all those years ago, something that's stopping you from ever letting us go back to the way we once were?"

            Remus was tired of this already, tired of the arguing.  Sirius had been back for less than a night, and here they were again.  How could he have ever thought that things would turn out better this time?  He was still himself, and Sirius seemed the same as ever.  Nothing ever changed.  "I don't know," he said, the weariness he felt slipping into his words.  "It was a long, long time ago."

            "But whatever it was, it's still haunting us today.  And my questions are as valid now as they would have been then."  A shadow passed across Sirius' face like a cloud obstructing the sun.  "Or is there someone else?"

            "No, Sirius."  The concept was so alien that it took Remus a full minute to process what he meant.  "No, there's no one else.  There never has been."

            "So it all comes back to fourteen years ago, and a mistake I made.  But what was it?"  Sirius stood, and began to pace back and force.  His footsteps gave a cadence to his words, beating like a drum.  "What did you want from me?  What test did you fashion out of my absence; what did I fail to do?  What could I have done to make it better for us?"

            "I. Don't.  Know."

            "Yes, you do know!"  Sirius was yelling now, his face flushed.  The firelight played off his features, twisting them until he was almost unrecognizable.  His eyes glowed and his mouth had twisted into a sneer, a chilling change to a face that had once almost always been joyful.  "You know why, but you've worked hard to bury it.  I know you, and I know that you're so ashamed of your own selfishness that you've covered it with rationalizations and other such bullshit.  But it's still there.  And without acknowledging it, we're going to be stuck here, at this point, forever.  So we need to figure out what this problem of yours is.

            "I'm willing to wait here all night until we settle this.  It's been fourteen years; what's another twenty-four hours?  I'm not even tired.  Guess that comes from living- no, existing- in a place where sleeping is just as restless as being awake.  But that's just me."

            Remus didn't like the way Sirius' voice had turned.  "You never told me what happened."

            "Well, I thought it should have been obvious!  I mean, I mesmerized the entire country, both muggle and wizarding, with my homicidal rage.  I was on the television, for god's sakes!"

            "No, that's not what I meant."  

            "Then what?" he barked.

            Remus cringed.  "The night it happened, we had a fight."  He struggled to keep calm.  "You stormed out.  I didn't go out after you; I expected you to come home after you had cooled off."

            "But I never came home," Sirius finished for him.

            "No," Remus sighed.  "You didn't.  Not until tonight, that is."   

            If anything, this remark seemed to only incense Sirius further.  "And now you're mad that I never apologized.  Goddamn it Remus, it's not like I could have sent you a fucking postcard!  Azkaban doesn't exactly have owl post!  How was I supposed to reach you?

            "And even if I could have somehow gotten word to you, what was I to say?  'Hello, how's life?  Things are just splendid here in the depths of hell.  I'm sorry for being so mean to you that last night.  Forgive me?  Oh, and, by the way, I wasn't really Lily and James' Secret-Keeper; Peter was.  He framed me, and he's not really dead.  He's simply gone into hiding as Wormtail, waiting for the right time to join Voldemort when he inevitably rises again.'  How would you have reacted if that letter had dropped onto your breakfast table next to the morning edition of the _Daily Prophet_?"

            "I know; I know," Remus held up his hands, shielding himself from the blow he knew was imminent.  "But if you only knew how miserable I've been—"

            "As if life has treated me any better these fourteen years!" 

            Sirius gulped, and stopped pacing to face Remus.  "Moony, I have no idea how to convey to you what it was like in there."

            Remus looked up at him.  There was his nickname again.  "Padfoot, you don't have to tell me anything.  If it's too hard for you, I understand."

            "No, you don't!"  Sirius ran a hand through his hair.  "You can't even begin to understand.  You have no idea, and you have a right to know.  I have to explain, have to show you…."  He trailed off, the words too hard to say.

            For a time, both of them were silent.  Sirius' breath rattled like leaves in an autumn wind.  Remus could almost hear the cold in his lungs that had undoubtedly come from Azkaban.  It was the only sound in the room besides the crackle and pop of the fireplace.

            When Sirius finally spoke, his voice was measured and controlled.  He was trancelike, a sleepwalker recounting his nightmare world.  Each syllable carried its proper weight, like pallbearers shouldering a coffin at a funeral.  More than anything else, though, he sounded like the smoke- curling and twisting, but always grey.  

            "The things I remember most are the screams.  Long, piercing wails, the sounds would echo off every slimy wall, floor, and ceiling.  No matter how I tried to hide from then, they always found me, like slithering creatures that can slip though even the small crack to pervade everything.  Awake, asleep- all you hear is screaming.

            "I think I screamed too, those first few months.  It's hard—" Here he faltered.  Remus took his hand, and Sirius seemed thankful for that.  He continued, "It's hard to be sure of time there, but I remember falling unconscious, my throat hoarse and my tongue bleeding.  At first, I was proclaiming my innocence, shouting to anyone who could hear me that they had made a mistake.  I knew I hadn't made much of a case for myself that day, but in the very beginning, I was sure that someone would figure out what had really happened. 

            "But after Azkaban got to me, my screams ceased to have words.  Then, I was less concerned with trying to leave than just trying to let loose some of the horror I had within myself.  Because that's the worst part of all- the knowledge that everything is of your own making.  That you're more of a prisoner to your mind than to any walls or bars or island in the middle of the sea.

            "After a while, each prisoner stops screaming.  It's only the new arrivals that do it; they've just come from the outside, so everything that was but is no longer is fresher in their minds.  The old prisoners have forgotten all that, all you can remember is dark and dank.  It's not that you go numb, but you forget. 

            "Everything comes from the dementors.  You've been near them; they suck out every little bit of happiness, creating a sort of vacuum inside.  Soon, despair, darkness, and every other demon that inhabits a vile place like Azkaban rushes in to fill the emptiness. 

            "You can see why the new prisoners scream."

            Remus was reminded of something he had once told Harry, about the dementors' power to leave a person with only the worst experiences of his life.  It had been strange, because although he remembered being confident in his words, he also remembered not being sure of where they were originating.  They had just issued forth from him, one after another in a stream.  Thinking back, was it truly he who had been speaking in that moment?  Or had it been Sirius, talking to his godson?

            "In there, I lost everything about you," Sirius said.  "Your taste, the way your hair was always falling before your eyes when you read, your bemused smile whenever I would kiss you, as if you had momentarily forgotten who I was— the dementors took all that from me.  Just being able to conjure an image of you in my mind would have brought comfort to me, but I couldn't.  It was gone.

            "All that they left me with were the arguments.  And not the bantering that was more playful than malicious, but the real, searing fights when we'd throw things at one another- plates and vases and words so awful that we could never quite take them back.  The times when I'd get so fed up with the silences that I'd leave for a few days, pack a suitcase and go to Lily and James's.  The nights when the moon was full and you never came home at all, and when you did the next morning, you were so ragged and tired that I was afraid to ask where you had been.  Those were the kind of memories of you that Azkaban let me keep.

            "And the worst was that last night.  That was what plagued me the most.  I had just checked in on Peter and he wasn't there.  I knew that something had been set into motion, that the spy had finally made his move.  I was frustrated that our suspicions kept pointing to you.  I came home, and it all just came to a head."

            "You called me a 'dirty monster.'"  Remus could barely get the words past his lips.  They cut him, shredding the inside of his mouth.  He could almost taste the metallic tang of blood.

            "And I could never take it back!"  Sirius' eyes were pleading now.  "No matter how much those words killed me, I couldn't take them back.  I just had them run through my mind over and over, without any hope of resolution.  My guilt was my prison.  It was terrible, knowing I had hurt you and couldn't fix it.  I almost died.  

            "That's why I got so angry when you mentioned it before- I'd lived under a cloud of remorse about that night for so long that having it reinforced by you was too much.  When the dementors' grip was looser on me, I was able to at least half-convince myself that you understood that I couldn't apologize, and had forgiven me anyway.  The fact that you hadn't was a blow.  But I know that's no excuse.  I should never have exploded like that, then and now.  I just wish it had never happened.  I'm sorry."

            Remus wished he could say something to help Sirius.  Something that would assure him that he was alright, that everything was forgiven.  He couldn't, though; all the words had stopped coming.  Besides, he doubted if it would have done any good.  Sirius needed to talk.  Remus could only listen.

            "In a way, I was lucky, though.  Because I had a secret weapon, something no one knew about.  So, when all was darkness and my ears were ringing with those ugly words, I transformed.  The dementors couldn't penetrate my mind to siphon my memories from me as easily then; outside of my human form, I felt more like myself.  Ironic, really.  But as time went, I'd retreat more and more often to that big, shaggy black dog I had become for you so many years ago at Hogwarts."

            Sirius stopped for a moment.  When he spoke again, he was quieted.  "Remus, being an Animagus saved me from Azkaban.  

            "You saved me."   

*****

(end part 3)

(Part 4 should be out… soon-ish?)

Thanks to all who have reviewed so far- hesperos, SarWolf Snape, goldensummer, Dawnatello, DuoLordOfDeath, Rosie, Trunks, StickPegasus, Kimagure, Remus Lover, Hannah M., Elphie, Brittanie, Sabaye Leyr, prongs, Rubicon... you all are the best.


	4. Hush and Watch

Dog Star Over the Mountains

(Warning, summary, and ratings can be found in chapter 1.)

*****

**Chapter 4- Hush and Watch**

            Sirius was pallid, and his dark hair against his face was like the contrast of black velvet and bone.  Beads of sweat ran along the worry lines of his forehead.  His hands were cold; holding them felt like gripping December.  He was staring through Remus at some point beyond him.  Had telling his tale really drained him so badly?  

            "He's at Hogwarts," Sirius whispered in an alien voice.  "Oh God, he's at Hogwarts, and he'll kill Harry!  He'll kill him like he killed James and Lily!  Someone has to save Harry!"

            His eyes frightened Remus.  They weren't the eyes he had been dreaming of, soft and crinkling ever so slightly at the edges when he smiled.  These were those of a madman, windows into a soul in turmoil.  Perhaps Azkaban had unhinged him after all.  Perhaps it had torn the Sirius he loved away, leaving only the darkness.  A cold fear spilled through him like oil in the ocean, coating him in icy black ink.  For a second, Remus wished he hadn't refused Mad-Eye's offer to outfit his house with attacking bookends.  

            But this was Sirius!  Sirius, who once turned the entire Slytherin Quidditch into woodlice for a week after a Beater had called Remus queer.  Sirius, who went to such extraordinary lengths to keep James's bachelor party a secret that even half the people attending didn't know about it.  Whatever had happened, whatever battles those storms in his eyes were from, he was home at last.  And that was all that mattered.

            "Sirius!"  Remus tugged at him.  "Sirius, it's okay!"

            Sirius seemingly didn't have the strength to hold himself up, and he crumpled to his knees like a rag doll.  Slumped over, everything from the pitch of his shoulders to the droop of his head signaled defeat.  The chaos had gone from his eyes.  They were dull now, glassy.  They stared at Remus, but there was no flicker of recognition.  He wondered if Sirius could even see him anymore.

            "Harry's safe, Sirius," Remus said, hoping he could somehow jar him out of this.  "Peter didn't get him.  You saved Harry!"  He brought Sirius' hands up to his mouth and kissed them.

            Sirius raised his head at this most gentle of touches.  Something must have finally registered, because the fog was lifted, and his eyes snapped back into focus.  The light returned to them, and Remus was overcome with wonder at the grace of the change.  Here was the miracle of sunrise, staring at him in those eyes.  All residual anger and fear vanished, and he was left with nothing but awe.  

            Sirius pulled their hands apart and grabbed Remus' wrist.  He traced the lines of Remus' palm, his brow furrowed, his lips muttering something incoherent.  

            Remus observed his complete concentration with a mixture of affection and worry.  What was Sirius doing?  

            Hush and watch, replied that long-silent side of him.  Watch him, memorize him, and never, ever let him go again.  

            Remus was tired of being cautious; he had been listening to logic for too long.  Now it was time to give the other side a chance.  And so he waited.

            Eventually, Sirius seemed satisfied and let his hand drop.  "Moony?" he whispered incredulously.  "You came back to me?"

            Remus smiled, knowing in that moment that it was all going to be fine.  "I didn't have to.  You came back to me." 

*****

Almost  "The End!'  Epilogue now up!

*****

My former Final Statement:

            And so ends the most draining thing I have ever written.  Ever.  Hoped you all liked it, and heartfelt thank you's to everyone whose kind words helped me muddle through and finish this.  

            Although the tale has been told, and my muses are now sleeping, perhaps they might be coaxed to whisper a sequel to me.  Who can predict their whims?

            I am going to follow their lead by taking a long nap.

For now, at least, goodnight-

-E.H.


	5. Precious Things Epilogue

Dog Star Over the Mountains

(Warning, summary, and ratings can be found in chapter 1.)

*****

**Epilogue- Precious Things**

            Remus awoke to the end of a sentence trailing through his mind like the ragged tail of a parade straggling by.  "…tomorrow, and forever," he heard; it had obviously been cut off from a comment made just as he had been falling asleep last night.  What a strange feeling, he mused.  It was as if a radio broadcast had been playing in his head all night and he had only caught the very end of it, those last moments before everything faded back into static.

            He blinked, drawing back the veiled curtains of sleep from his eyes.  An arm was draped over his chest like the sleeve of a coat tossed onto a chair.  Remus heard the familiar morning sounds of waking up next to another person.  The shifting of a body rousing, the slight yawn as eyes opened.  He tried to remember how long it had been since the last time he had heard such sounds.  A long time, certainly— perhaps too long.

            Strands of ephemeral silver webbing still hung over Remus; his sleepy brain could not remember to whom that arm belonged.  He squinted at it, trying to recall.  It was thin, but strong and comforting with an overlaying of fine, dark hairs.  Unblemished, except for a small crescent-shaped scar on the forearm, and Remus realized who it was as soon as he saw that mark.

            He turned his head, and Sirius was there beside him, smiling.  His eyes were warm, like sunlight hitting the slick cobblestones after a storm, and his smile was a door opening to see the new, fresh world.  Too long, indeed.

            "Hey," Remus whispered, and reached over to place a kiss on his forehead.  "Good morning."

            "Morning."  Sirius was hoarse.  Remus wondered if it was from overuse from their conversation last night; doubtless he had had few people to talk with either in Azkaban or his fugitive flight.  He imagined, though, that it was really from swallowing thousands of clear pebbles.  He saw the golden stream of Sirius' voice running over those crystalline stones somewhere inside of him.  It was still early morning, and daily ritual had not yet shattered such flights of whimsy.

            "Did you sleep well?"

            Sirius nodded, drew him closer.  Their bare skin touched, warm and right.  "Among other things," he said; Remus could feel his smile through his skin.  An osmosis of sorts, their bodies were humming and sharing as if those fourteen years had been nothing but a nightmare from which he had just awoken.  "I had almost forgotten what it felt like."

            "Me too," and he truly had.  So long ago, so far from his life.  Last night had been the opening of an old box of mementoes— each precious thing bringing back a torrent of memories.  Every bit of pleasure, or of pain, or of both, was rediscovered.  So exquisitely beautiful, they had reminded Remus of thousands of shimmering planets, pure and spinning just outside of their embrace.  It might have just been the years of desert, but it seemed to Remus that it had never felt better.

            Sirius' eyes widened.  "Moony," a blush spread across his cheeks, "in all the time that I was gone, did you ever…."  He looked away, too embarrassed to complete the thought.

            Remus sighed, a bit of heaviness settling over him.  No, those years had passed; they could not pretend that they hadn't.  "Once," he said, and bile came to his mouth to accompany the remembering.  A muggle coffee shop, laughing blue eyes meeting his, an ultra-chic apartment in Notting Hill, unfamiliar hands and skin and sweat, two names screamed in climax— neither the person around whose body each was twined.  "Years and years ago."

            Sirius nodded, squeezed his eyes shut for a long moment before opening them again.

            "It was a casual acquaintance; I never even knew his full name."  He took a deep breath, clinging to Sirius, though his form had gone rigid.  "I had to do it, Sirius; I had to test your hold on me.  I was still reeling from that awful night, and I needed to know if there was anything besides you.  I had to see whether there could ever be anyone else for me."

            "And what did you find?"  Sirius' voice betrayed an apprehension that he could not keep from his body; he melted into Remus, holding on with fear.  They were like castaways clutching a floating piece of driftwood for dear life, knowing that neither of them could swim in the dark and choppy water that surrounded them.

            "I learned that I'd rather be miserable for want of you alone, than miserable for want of you with someone else."  Remus kissed him again, this time at the juncture where neck flowed into shoulder.  "And that I was never going to rid myself of you."

            Sirius brightened.  "I'm glad I've been such a hard habit to kick," he said mildly.

            He smiled.  "You were my fourteen year flu, in a manner of speaking."  He shifted, turned a bit so that he could nestle more comfortably into the hollow of Sirius' chest.  This had always been his favorite spot; he could hear his heart beating so clearly that it was as if he had climbed into his skin and curled up inside of him.  Every time Sirius took a breath, it ruffled his hair, a summer breeze after a long, hard winter.  His eyes drifted shut once more.

            That wonderfully gravelly voice halted his descent into sleep.  "Do you have anywhere that you need to be right now?"

            Remus shook his head; his social calendar, never all too cluttered to begin with, had been deserted for months.  "Not that I know of, no."  He tilted his head up to look at Sirius.  "Why do you ask?"

            The look on his face could only be described by one word— devilish.  Remus shivered, remembering what had usually followed it.  He pressed his hips into Sirius', realizing that his body had remembered as well. 

            "Because while you were sleeping, I decided that neither of us would be leaving this bed for quite a while.  Unless you have any objections."      

            And Remus, of course, couldn't even think of one.

*****

The End

*****

(When I wrote Chapter 4, I was honestly pretty sure that I wasn't going to continue this piece.  I was exhausted, and ready to leave this alone.  However, once I got the inspiration to add this bit on, I began to think seriously about a sequel.  I have one diagrammed, and thanks to everyone who's been so supportive of this project, it's coming along really well.  Thank you for your comments and words of encouragement; you don't know how much they've meant to me.

Until the next tomorrow,

-E.H.)


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